And the Benefit of Reading
by The Black Sun's Daughter
Summary: Ezekiel doesn't exactly do a whole lot of reading. Not to say he doesn't like books or anything, but he's just not a big reader. But he knows his soulmates are, because he has their words printed on his skin like ink, and he knows that they're the biggest nerds in the world, given what they say to him. (Soulmate AU)


Ezekiel has two soulmarks. It's not entirely unheard of in this day and age, but he's willing to bet actual paper money that the number of soulmate triads in the world are still in the double digits.

Eve's lucky; her soulmark is on her thigh, nice and easily covered with the right pair of shorts. It's not a single sentence, either, it's a whole _paragraph,_ an entire damn monologue that takes up most of her upper thigh. Whoever her soulmate is, he/she is one long-winded bugger.

One of his soulmarks is on his left wrist, coiling in a hook shape from the inside of his wrist to the back of his hand, just touching his knuckles. The handwriting is neat and curly, and he likes to think that it's a girl's handwriting. He's forged enough signatures to know. And he knows that she's also a huge nerd, because the neat, curly handwriting reads as such: _Not gonna lie to you, I would absolutely hit up a Barnes and Noble during the Purge._

And his _other_ soulmark is on the right side of his collarbone, starting just below the hollow of his throat and curling up to the dip in his collarbone. This handwriting is quick and scrawling, definitely a bloke, which doesn't bother Ezekiel at all. He's known that he played for both teams since he was old enough to like the game. And he's an even bigger nerd than she is because his words are: _If someone tries to stop me from getting free books, I ain't gonna be the one getting murdered._

The words had confused the hell out of him when he was younger and scared him a little too, lacking context, but once the film actually came out, it became the funniest thing he's ever heard in his life. He's got a pair of fucking _nerds_ for soulmates that would risk being murdered to get free books and would _commit_ murder to obtain said free books. Eve likes to tease him about it, and she has ever since they met six years ago when she saved his arse from being whipped six ways to Sunday. They've been friends ever since then, and she's always let him crash on her sofa when he doesn't have a place to go. Which is a lot, actually.

When she moves to Portland, its only natural that Ezekiel follows her there, because why not? And just like always, he makes a habit to visit the bookstores around town. Its impossible to know where one will meet their soulmates, but he's got a pretty good chance it'll be in a bookstore. He starts at all the big ones first, like Barnes and Noble, and works his way down to the little hole-in-the-wall places.

Like the Final Draft Bookstore. It's directly across from the club where Eve's been hired on as a bouncer. She's good at it. Most blokes look at the blonde hair, blue eyes, and shapely figure and think she's just another girly-girl. Ezekiel knows better, though, and he's seen her make men twice her size cry for mummy. She'll be good at her job, even if it is temporary, and he can get in free whenever he wants a fun night out, so bonus.

Ezekiel makes his way across the street into the bookstore after stopping off to wish Eve good luck on her first day. Its a pleasant little place, deceptively designed to appear bigger on the inside, very neat and orderly, with a homey, lived-in feel to it, like if it weren't for the "Open" sign hanging on the door, it could be someone's personal library in a house. He likes it almost immediately. He might not be big on reading, but there's something inherently relaxing in being surrounded by books.

As he strolls idly through the shelves, dragging his fingers across the spines, he sees a young woman in a floral dress walking over to one of the tables in the back of the store, staggering a little under the weight of a tote bag that's completely crammed with books, bulging all over. "Bloody hell, I bet she could single-handedly keep this place in business," Ezekiel remarks aloud as he hurries over, grabbing a strap and helping her pull the bag up onto the table.

She blows a strand of curly red hair out of her eyes and gives him a broad, happy grin, "Not gonna lie to you, I would absolutely hit up a Barnes and Noble during the Purge."

His words. She's said his words which means that she's his soulmate, or one of them, at least, and holy shite this is the greatest day of his life. He says the first thing that comes to mind. "Number one warning sign that you're addicted: you're willing to be brutally murdered for free books." It's all he's been able to think about ever since he first read her words on him.

"If someone tries to stop me from getting free books, I ain't gonna be the one getting murdered," a low Southern drawl interjects, and Ezekiel feels positively _lightheaded_ now, because _holy shite._

The owner of the voice is sitting in one of the reading nooks that are nestled up against the wall; Ezekiel didn't see him when he first came in because the bloke's practically part of the décor. The walls of the Final Draft are painted a dark blue, and naturally, the upholstery and throw pillows scattered throughout the nooks match. And apparently, so does he. He's wearing dark blue jeans and a blue flannel shirt that's open over a grey Henley. Even his socks are blue, which Ezekiel knows because his shoes are on the floor next to the seat, so he can put his feet up without scuffing the cushions.

Ezekiel lets out a little bark of laughter. "That is some top-shelf camouflage, mate, your chameleon brothers will be proud."

"It matches your eyes, too," the redhead observes, and she's right: the bloke's eyes are blue, too, made more intense by the fact that he's surrounded by the colour.

The cowboy blinks at them like he's forgotten how to speak English for a moment, then he lets out a quiet, "Oh."

Yeah. Oh. That sums it up pretty nicely.

Ezekiel decides to take mercy on the cowboy, since it looks like they might've broken him. He takes the redhead by the hand and walks over to the reading nook, sitting down on the little bit of open cushion next to his socked feet; the redhead goes to sit on the other side, her arm pressed up neatly against his. "I'm Cassandra Cillian," she introduces herself first, smiling warmly at them both.

"Ezekiel Jones," he supplies.

The cowboy is still staring at them like he can't believe they're actually sitting in front of him, but then he seems to reboot and shakes his head a little. "Oh, I-I'm Stone. Jacob, I mean, I'm Jacob Stone. I...I didn't think it would be you," he murmurs, looking back and forth between them.

Cassandra looks a little hurt. "Why not?"

Jacob reaches out and takes one of her hands in his immediately, understanding how it'd sounded. "No, no, not like that. I just mean..." He unbuttons the collar of his Henley and tugs it open a little so they can see the curly, feminine writing that curls across his chest, the same writing on Ezekiel's wrist, Cassandra's writing: _It matches your eyes, too._ "When I heard you guys talking...you didn't say them first..."

"Because we weren't talking to _you,"_ Ezekiel puts in, nudging one of Jacob's legs with his elbow. "The words are only the first ones said directly to you, mate."

Cassandra nods agreement and tugs up the hem of her skirt a little, rolling back the top of her stocking to show Ezekiel's chicken-scratch on the middle of her thigh: _Number one warning sign that you're addicted: you're willing to be brutally murdered for free books._ "That's what he said directly to me first, even though that's not the first thing I heard him say."

Jacob frowns a little, and Ezekiel might just be riding the high of finding his soulmates at the moment, but he finds that little pouting frown to be adorable. "That's...stupid," he mutters.

"Nobody says the rules have to make sense," Ezekiel laughs, then gets to his feet and offers each of them a hand. "C'mon, let's get out of here. Anyone want lunch?"

* * *

Lunch actually ended up being at Jacob's flat because he lived the closest. And it wasn't really lunch, either, more like the most incredible make-out session in the history of _ever._ Rationally, there's nothing different, but there is something in _knowing,_ knowing that these are his soulmates and he's good and taken now and these two nerds are all his. They don't end up in the bedroom, not just yet. There's plenty of time for that later.

Instead, they end up in the living room, and Jacob is officially the biggest dork out of the three of them because since he lives alone and nobody can stop him, he's pushed two sofas together and turned them into a giant mega comfy living room nest. That's where they end up, the three of them tangled together, flushed and happy. They've all stripped to the waist and have taken time to learn where each other's sensitive spots are. Cassandra's ticklish and will giggle if they kiss her ribs or certain places on her neck; there's a spot under Jacob's ear that'll make him sigh and melt happily, another one just near his hip. That's also where Ezekiel finds his words on Jacob. They're scrawled on the inside of his hip, in that tender dip of soft skin framing the groin, half-hidden under his jeans; Jacob's words are on Cassandra's belly, trailing just below her navel.

Once the first surge of holy-hell-I've-found-you passion eases back, they settle into a comfortable tangle of limbs in the sofa-nest and just talk. Ezekiel's never been one to sit and talk about his life, but that doesn't stop them.

Jacob works at the bookstore, but he also writes academic criticisms and studies on art and history and art history; he can speak nine languages and 64 dialects. He's from Anais, which, in his own words, is a jerkwater town in the arse-end of Oklahoma, smack-dab in the centre of the Praise-Jesus part of America. Which means the folks back home hadn't taken too well to him having two soulmates. His father owns an oil company, his mother died when he was fifteen, and he has three younger sisters.

Cassandra teaches science/math at a college in the city; Ezekiel can readily admit that the strings of number she can spout make his head hurt just _listening_. She's originally from New York, but she's moved around a bit after she was diagnosed with a brain tumor. They both stiffen at that, but she waves one hand and reassures them that it's gone now. She'd gotten surgery two years ago, and it hasn't shown the smallest hint of returning. Her parents are both scientific bigwigs and a pair of cold fish, too; she doesn't speak to them very much, and she's an only child.

And then its Ezekiel's turn, and he talks about his stint in foster care, his unknown father and absent mother. He'd been adopted at four by his mum, Lenore Jones, and he had three sisters, all of whom were older, bigger, and meaner than him. He carefully skirts around what he does for a living because explaining to his soulmates that he's a thief is a conversation to have when they have more clothes on. Instead he just gives them a vague 'looking for a job' explanation and leaves it at that for now. He also tells them about Eve and promises to introduce him to his best friend/fourth sister.

It's late before they realise it, and Jacob offers to make them dinner if they want to stay, which they most certainly _do._ Ezekiel rests his head against Cassandra's soft belly, smiling as they watch him move around the kitchen, shirtless and barefoot. Dinner ends up being a few cheese toasties and Sunny-D. "I was gonna go to the store tomorrow," Jacob admits sheepishly as he climbs back into the sofa-nest, balancing the plate in one hand.

Ezekiel doesn't mind in the least, and neither does Cassandra, it seems. They turn on the telly and watch _Little Shop of Horrors_ as they eat because it's Jacob's favourite movie, and Cassandra's never seen it before. He curls himself over Cassandra's lap and rests his head on Jacob's thigh, warm and full and perfectly loved. They've got stuff to figure out. They've got a _lot_ of things to figure out, really, because trying to make three people's lives mesh is a touch more difficult than just two, but that doesn't matter right now. They've got all the time in the world for that another day, and right now, they don't have anything to think about other than Seymour and his talking alien plant, sharing warmth and love in a pleasant quiet.

This soulmate thing is the fucking _best._

* * *

When he calls Eve to tell her the next day, she's almost as excited as he is. And Ezekiel finds out why when she shows up at the Final Draft with a tall, gangly man in tow, pulling him along by his scarf like a dog on a leash. The man, who looks like he's just rolled out of bed in the same clothes from yesterday, looks perfectly happy to be dragged around, watching Eve with happy doe eyes like she's the sun, moon, and stars all rolled up in a shiny blonde package.

"This is him, then?" Ezekiel asks with a broad grin.

"Yup. Flynn Carsen, this is Ezekiel Jones, close friend of mine," Eve introduces. "Where are yours?"

Turning around, Ezekiel points to Jacob, who's a few stacks away reshelving stray books; Cassandra's sitting in a reading nook just behind him, curled up in a little ball with a stack of papers for marking next to her. Before he calls them over, though, he turns back to look at Flynn, who's still gazing at Eve like she's the best thing since sliced bread. He can very deeply empathize with that feeling. Ezekiel asks even though it's not really polite, because he's been wondering ever since he saw Eve's entire monologue of a soulmark. "What'd she say to you?" he asks.

Flynn blinks at him like he's forgotten Ezekiel's even there, and then his ears turn a brilliant pink, and he immediately dissolves into incomprehensible stammering until Eve rolls her eyes, turns him around, and tugs up the back of his shirt; Ezekiel laughs until it hurts, then.

 _You really never shut up, do you?_ is written just above Flynn's tailbone like a tramp stamp.


End file.
